


I'm Fine, don't worry.

by Soorin



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: A whole sad Donghyuck, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Universe, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, I'm Sorry, I'm terrible at tagging, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Like seriously he deserves an award, M/M, Nothing too explicit I swear, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Shitty knet, learning to love yourself, no vomiting, taeyong is a good leader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-11 01:23:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16466018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soorin/pseuds/Soorin
Summary: Donghyuck never really payed attention to his weight, he tought it was kind of dumb to get mad because of something as unimportant as that.But one day, Haechan starts worrying about it. Obviously he shouldn't. Shoud he ?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [I'm Fine.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16421159) by [Soorin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soorin/pseuds/Soorin). 



> Hey guys ! First of all, I just want to warn everyone that I'm NOT a native english speaker ok ? I'm not even good at studying english tbh, I'm French (oh dear we are in trouble) and I'm doing my best to post this story in english because some people asked me to (I'm translating my own story, how sad is that really ?)
> 
> I'm really sorry because I know there are going to be a lot of mistakes in this but hey, I hope you'll enjoy it anyway !

  
"Haechan, why are you so ugly? Lose some weight. "

 

A game. Really, to begin, it was nothing more than an innocent game, a simple entertainment classic that any great self-respecting idol group must know to master, the good old and -most of the time- harmless "Yaja time". He was the undisputed king among NCT127 but the downside, when he played with the DREAMs, he made the ideal victim. All the remarks he had been able to glide sneakily at others came back to him a hundredfold. But he did not blame them, far from it!

Everyone felt pressured, not knowing how to offer the audience a good entertainment without it seems too forced, until thinking about the slightest of their gestures, the least of his words and especially Jisung who was still so young and who was in the spotlight at such moments, everyone setting great expectations in him. He had to be funny. No matter the means, it was necessary to make the audience laugh. And what makes a bored knet laugh more than pure, hard, free mockery mixed with a sweet scent of insubordination? Nothing. Quite simply.

So no, Donghyuck wasn’t mad at Jisung, on the contrary, he was even proud of him, he had managed to find and exploit a comic vein in a short amount of time and with great ease, just enough vindictive to give him time to display a falsely outraged grimace lined with a slight smile, all this little episode surely constituting the funniest part of the show, thanks to Mark's high-pitched laughter and Jeno's mimicry. No, there was no doubt, Jisung had done the right thing.

 

But it was still hurting.

 

.

 

5 minutes. That to say. 10 minutes. Was it really so difficult? 15 minutes. Ok that’s more than enough now.

 

"What's that for ?"

 

Donghyuck had always been curious, even too curious. He knew it very well, but far from considering it a defect, on the contrary, he boasted of it and exhibited his curiosity as one of his greatest traits of character proving his cunning, his intelligence. He loved his curiosity, if he were to describe himself using a single term, he would do it without hesitation and with pride: curious. It was who he was.

His makeup artist gave him a big smile, surely happy that there is actually someone interested in her job and responded with enthusiasm.

 

"It's a powder for contouring, Haechan-ah" she says, her white teeth still visible. "It serves to redraw the structure of your face, hide your imperfections if you prefer! You see, I use a lot of dark powder on your cheeks and your jaw because you have a lot of surplus a little unsightly. Nothing too serious but it is a bit problematic for a photo shoot. "

 

_Problematic ?_

 

"Besides, if you do not mind, I would like you to pull up your shorts please. "

 

Pull up my shorts? That's something else. In what galaxy could she have a good reason to ask me that?

 

"Huh? The onomatopoeia escaped from his mouth without really having proper time to record the situation, his dazed expression snatching a new laughter from the make-up artist, her white teeth taunting him with ever more intensity.

 

"You do not exactly have the thinnest body in the group Haechan-ah, it's quite the opposite. I need to take care of your legs and your collarbones now as I did with your chubby face. "

 

As soon as she finished her sentence, she tackled the task vigorously, kneeling before him and by frantically dancing the big brush on his calves. Donghyuck then looked at Jeno who was having makeup done next to him, no contouring for him, his makeup time cruelly shorter than his, his angular and protruding jaw, legs pale and muscular, with no trace of dark powder.

He gave him a sparkling smile before getting up and joining the others -all already ready ... - to which Donghyuck replied with his usual energy before turning his head to squeeze his teeth.

 

Contouring huh?

 

Donghyuck hated his curiosity.

 

.

 

Donghyuck never really paid attention to his weight nor his silhouette. He was neither extraordinarily handsome nor ugly and it fit him perfectly like that, his body responded to his needs without problems and he considered himself in good health so no, he had absolutely no problem with the vision he had of himself.

Banal, in the norm, yes. Hideous? No, certainly not.

 

So why was he staring at the others Dream members’ legs all day with a disturbing fascination, glancing sideways in spite of himself? The shooting lasted longer than expected but he paid no attention, being too distracted by the filiform bodies - oh so perfect - of his friends. His beautiful friends. So he jumped when the photographer's deep, rocky voice called out to him.

 

"Haechan-ah, what are you doing here? "

 

He frowned slightly, quickly analysing their positions, checking furtively whether he’d made a mistake before answering.

 

"It’s exactly what we said the last time we agreed on this, I have to squat in the foreground, right in front of Renjun and next to Mark. I am in the right place! "

 

His response sounded terribly like a justification to his ears. Why did he feel so assaulted? After all, the photographer made sure everything was in order, he should be grateful for it, but he could not help feeling the slight pinch that gripped his chest as the day’s events came back to him step by step, degrading considerably his spirit; but he must be happy, he was he who had to maintain the joy of dream by his stupid, funny and relaxing attitude. He had no right to let those frivolous emotions taint his mood maker role. He would turn his head around simple little remarks. Until proof to the contrary, there is no death of men, nothing he cannot overcome with his usual panache.

 

"Ah. Well, get behind, will you ? Your current position brings out the fat of your thighs. "

 

Then, all smiles, Haechan stood up and placed himself behind, hugging Renjun's shoulders and taking the best pose facing the lens.

 

"Of course we do not want Dumbo in the middle of our beautiful Disney princesses, it would not be ugly but definitely disturbing! Not true Renjunie?” He said, laughing softly, cheering the good mood of his colleagues, because that was just what he was supposed to do.

 

Haechan whispered in Mark's ear, who immediately screamed an outrageous "yah" while he began attacking Chenle with tickling, which caused general hilarity, including staff members, the special laughter of his adorable green haired dongsaeng filling the room, distinguishing himself. Not seeming to be able to stop, if only to breathe, his never-ending laugh resonating into the whole room, warmed his heart imperceptibly. To keep on hearing this laugh, Haechan could well endure some remarks about his weight that he didn’t even pay attention to anyway, it definitely did not require a superhuman effort, no more and no less than a trifle.

But Donghyuck knew very well that this moment, marked by laughter and cheerfulness, marked the beginning of his long descent into hell.

 

.

 

The way back to the dormitory was done in a soothing silence. Everyone was too exhausted to talk about anything which gave the opportunity to the most tired of them to enjoy a well-deserved nap, rocked by the weak shaking of the van. Chenle Jisung and Jaemin had settled comfortably on each other at the back of the car, Renjun and Jeno sharing a pair of headphones in front of them and to Haechan's right, Mark was sleeping with his mouth wide open, his head crushed against the window.

 

Donghyuck knew perfectly well that it was not the right time to think about this stuff, promotions were really exhausting and played a lot on his nerves, he was clearly not in his healthiest and most stable state. Yet he could not help but dwell on the remarks he had received throughout the day, all those little details to which he usually gave no second thought. Fatigue played on his sensitivity –like every single time- but that was still a lot. In a very little amount of time.

 

So he told himself that it would probably not hurt him to lose a little weight as he had been advised. After all, it would only make him healthier, more attractive and with a little luck, he would even be able to increase his cardio to succeed in having a more stable voice during live performances. Only two or three kilos, nothing much exaggerated, just enough to get in shape and to satisfy others.

He could do that, for his hyungs, for NCT.

 

.

 

He was not really sure why he wasn’t telling the others that he was trying to diet. There was nothing to be ashamed of, lots of idols found themselves in this situation, like Yuta hyung and Johnny hyung just a few months earlier. Perhaps he wanted to surprise them, for when he would become presentable again in the eyes of the world, or perhaps he did not want to give them false hopes in case he failed miserably.

 

Which would not be surprising.

 

He began by reducing his quantities a little, eating everything, but just a little less, by training a little more, not eating fast sugars after fourteen o’clock, that kind of mundane things, diet tips that had been enough for Johnny Hyung to lose the pounds he wanted to get rid of.

Weeks passed, and nothing. He was not losing anything.

Despite all his efforts, every time Haechan climbed on the scale, the digital numbers were the same, week after week. One day, frustration got the better of him. Well-thinking people and their perfect advices could go to hell. They could say what they wanted with their nice morals, but nothing worked for him, it was not like he had not tried; nature just seemed to be against him. She had already cursed him for having such a body, so disgraceful and repulsive, but now she condemned him for not being able to do anything to change a thing about it.

 

His disappointment was replaced by a raging anger as he looked up from the scale and directed it towards the mirror right in front of him. Then his brain did what he could to handle the excess of emotions that bubbled in his intestines. He concentrated all this violent and devastating rage against what he saw right in front of him. Donghyuck. An incapable person, miserable, useless, incompetent, detestable, hid-

 

"Donghyuck-ah, is everything okay? It's been a while since you're in there. "

 

Taeyong hyung. Obviously. There is only him to worry when someone spends too much time in the bathroom. Stupid leader much too caring.

 

"All right, hyung. I'm almost done. "

 

"Haechan, if you do not get out of here right now, I'm going to shit on your bed. "

 

Jeez.

 

"What the heck Johnny hyung ? You're so damned hold back two seconds shit! "

 

"Hyuckie language. "

 

They are really going to kill him one day.

 

Donghyuck tidied the scale, flushed the toilet for good measure, unlocked the door, made room for a hurricane named Johnny, and answered Taeyong's thin smile. All this, without even recording that without the intervention of his hyungs, he would have gone further.

 

Way much further

.

 

The more days passed, the more Haechan realized he had a problem. Well, no, not a problem - it was not really _that_ bad- let’s just say his frustration was much more likely to take over his consciousness than usual. He had always been impulsive, bloody, yes, but that was beyond anything he’d known before. He was constantly in a bad mood and food literally occupied all his thoughts. In the evening, he was just so hungry, no matter how chubby he was, when he went to the table, all good intensions will flew away and he found himself taking big portions of the dish prepared by Taeyong several times.

Donghyuck loves food, it's as simple as that.

 

After all what is the problem? He is a growing teenager, who is physically very active every day. If someone has the need and the right to eat, it's him.

 

So why, why does he find himself in front of this damn mirror to firmly grip his thighs enough to leave purple marks on his skin. He was holding on tight, so hard, that he naively hoped to see his little pockets of fat disappear between his chubby fingers, but the reality is far more cruel.

 

Donghyuck was tired. Tired of waging a mental war against himself, tired of not losing a ridiculous kilogram, tired of having to hide his efforts from his hyungs, tired of even having to make those efforts, tired of being treated like one of those obese children who you never want to choose in your sports team.

He had checked his BMI! He was in the curve corresponding to his height and age, and Donghyuck was tired of the others and their comments. Fuck them all.

 

.

 

After his resolution worthy of Lao Tzu, he began to eat normally as he’d always done -the diet was useless anyway, it was just lost effort-. He no longer weighed himself, he carefully avoided the mirrors -as much as he could-, no longer paid any attention to his body -as before- and he was ... better? Yes. Definitely better. The effervescent and overflowing joy that characterized him illuminated him again, he regained his usual energy, was far less angry than during his "phase" -he called it- and he could fill his stomach after a busy day. So yes, he was better, almost good even.

But why did all this felt so wrong ?

 

.

 

He was getting better, that's true, but that period had broken something inside him, without Donghyuck really knowing what he had lost. His self-confidence? His esteem? His ego? It doesn’t matter. He does not even remember having one one day.

 

But Haechan was trying not to think about it, he continued his routine, made irreproachable performances, took care of his hyungs, satisfied the fans and amused the gallery during the variety shows. Because Haechan was strong.

But Donghyuck is not.

 

He knew he was attracted to Mark, and he knew that Mark was attracted to him. It had almost become a game between them, "who will crack first," they were pleased to flirt outrageously and turn around each other constantly.

 

Donghyuck did it less, until he didn’t do it at all. How could he ever have been so full of himself? Of course, Mark did not like him. How could he? He was disgusting. Fat and ugly. Donghyuck did no longer defined himself otherwise.

So when one night in the dorm, Mark approached him to squeeze his thigh with one hand and pinch his cheek with the other while saying "Our sweet chubby Hyuckie," Donghyuck thought for the first time that Mark Lee was cruel . Cruel to tell him in the face that he would never be good enough, that he was a child rather than someone desirable.

 

Donghyuck did not eat dinner that night.

 

He turned and turned in his bed, rumpled the rumpled sheets covering his meagre sobs, unable to find sleep. This situation was gnawing at him, he was aware of it. But what could he do? He was nothing more than a desperate case.

He stood up without a sound, glancing at his watch -half-past two in the morning- and resolutely headed for the kitchen.

He absolutely didn’t know why he was in the middle of the night in front of a wide open fridge, or why he began to eat desperately everything that came to hand uncontrollably. When he realized, ten minutes later of his condition, ice cream still flowing from his chin, when he realized that he had eaten like an animal guided by an unhealthy drive, he cried. He cried.

Again and again.

Then Haechan regained control, cleaned the disfigured kitchen, and calmly returned to bed, keeping his eyes wide open for the rest of the night.

 

Donghyuck did not cry for days after that.

 

He did not eat ice cream either.

 

.

 

Yuta had seen that their maknae was eating more and more irregular, but he did not interfere. After all, it was not his problem, and he was clearly not the example to follow for that.

 

Jaehyun asked some questions to his dongsaeng when he was less and less at table, but he did not insist anymore when he said that he preferred to be alone for a few moments in the evening, he just dropped it. Jaehyun understood that. Everyone needed privacy.

 

Johnny actually got angry when Donghyuck was regularly refusing their regular movie sessions, they had been doing this for almost three years now, and he was dropping it just like that?

 

Winwin was surprised not to feel jealousy coming from Donghyuck when Mark told him he was cute, and he wondered why. It was weird, but Yuta appeared immediately to replace Donghyuck so finally there wasn’t much that changed.

 

Doyoung became more insistent, harassing his friend to find out why he was not cooking with him anymore. Was his cooking so bad that he did not want to taste it anymore? Why didn’t he show up at meals anymore? And he answered that he was tired. Doyoung understood. He was too.

 

Taeil never spoke to him about it, but the older man kept a constant eye on his youngest dongsaeng, recording his expressions close to disgust at the food, his fake laughter and his once-so-bright smiles that had become entirely fake. Something was wrong, but he did not know what. And he couldn’t point his finger on it.

 

Taeyong was bloody worried. Donghyuck didn’t speak to him anymore, didn’t throw any scathing remarks at anyone and seemed to refuse to feed his body properly. He kept looking at him anxiously -and he knew very well that the youngest was seeing him- in the face of the tiny portions that Donghyuck had been happy with those days. He kept telling him he was fine, but Taeyong was far from stupid. The comeback was fast approaching and Taeyong suddenly had a mountain of problems on his shoulders. And he forgot about Donghyuck.

 

Mark… Well Mark was slowly dying. An evil gnawed Donghyuck from the inside, but he was unable to get his hands on it. The closer he got to his dongsaeng, the more he seemed to slip through his fingers. He made no further contact, fled him like the plague, and seemed about to cry every time Mark stared at him. It made Mark sick. One day, he gathered enough courage to talk to Donghyuck, but when he fell asleep on the couch, exhausted by their activities, he did not have the courage to wake him up.

 

So he did nothing.

 

Like everyone else.

 

.

"I'm just saying that I’m not really sure that’s a good idea. Honestly. "

 

"Haechanie is right, it's not a good idea, it's a brilliant idea, of course it comes from me and my magnificent brain, what exactly did you expect ?»

 

Ten took the pose, placing a dramatic hand on the bridge of his nose, resting his other hand on his forehead, pretending a grimace of intense reflection before gathering the whole group in the living room of 127. This kind of evening did not announce anything good. It's already complicated to manage everyone at 127, so with the Dreamies and U in addition, the disaster was planned for sure. This little group party idea was refreshing and pleasant and they all decided, by mutual agreement, to do it at least once a month. But honestly, it turned into a hell of a mess every time -and Donghyuck was often for something, even if he would never admit it in front of his hyungs-.

 

"That's not what I said hyung ... well, everyone is already here so I guess we do not really have a choice. "

 

But if Donghyuck dreaded so much this evening -by that means: more than usual- it was not because of any cushions thrown out of the windows, or complaints of night-time fuss, or truth or dare games that end up in positions surprising to say the least - no, he was accustomed to it- the cause of all of his fear was Ten's brilliant idea.

Chittaphon had thought it was relevant and amusing to take a look at the fans’ comments on their last performances, their last lives, "just to see," he sang gaily to all those who dared to ask him why.

 

Except Donghyuck knew exactly what the comments were about, he could predict them. However, he had his hands and feet tied, if he went away now, he would never go unnoticed and Ten would find anyway, a scary and oddly sexual way to chain him up to the chair so that he stays in the living room all evening. His feet then guided him slowly, dragging, towards the couch, on which he slumped, snuggling against Mark.

 

Mark Lee. The biggest of fools.

 

The latter only looked at him a few seconds later, analysing his expression accurately - was he trying to decipher his mood? - before smiling at him with all his white teeth perfectly aligned, placing an arm on his shoulder, which curled with tenderness around his back, his hand resting on his hip giving him chills. Whatever he saw in his eyes, it was enough for him to deduce that Donghyuck would not have tolerated his affection being thrown back into his face that night. Snuggling a little more, curling up against the most idiotic of his hyung, he allowed himself to rest his head on his shoulder, nestling his forehead in the hollow of his neck, making himself a comfortable pillow, and passed his two legs above those of his hyung, finding himself in profile in relation to the television in front of them and wriggled a few seconds before finding the most comfortable position, making Mark giggle.

Ten switched his computer to the TV and started to search, so Donghyuck took advantage of the fact that Mark was too distracted by all the excitement and anticipation that reigned in the room - animated by Yuta, Lucas and Renjun's lively words - to lightly put his hand on his hyung’s other shoulder. He amused himself to go back and forth, his fingers lighter than a feather, tracing the path drawn by the protruding clavicles of his hyung, dozens and dozens of times, winning in the other chills in front of such softness inflicted repeatedly on his sensitive skin. Donghyuck just wanted to show his gratitude.

 

To Mark Lee. The biggest idiot. The most adorable, understanding, attentive and loving idiot.

 

Twenty minutes passed unhindered, the deities seeming to have heard his prayers. Twenty minutes of pure sweetness during which he was lulled by Mark’s laughter and deep voice escaping from his throat and vibrating in his chest, causing him an unnamed comfort. If he had the ability to purr, Donghyuck would have done it right now and stronger than ever. Sleep had almost got the better of him, greatly helped by the heat released by his incredible human mattress, when the first judgment of the evening brought a silence of lead into the room.

 

“Haechan made a bet with someone or what? How can he be so fat omg "read Ten before he could understand what it meant.

 

Donghyuck didn’t blame him, Ten hyung was just caught in the euphoria of the moment and did not pay attention, it happens to everyone. And as Taeyong says, everyone gets this kind of comments, so do not worry, that's normal. It was with these words that they passed to the following comments. It was the avalanche of Haechan's worst terrors that scarily became reality right under the eyes of all the members of the group, the hateful comments invaded the screen so much that no more positive comment were found. The words turned and turned in his head making him sick.

 

 

 Taeyong4life :

« What is this dude doing here srly ? What’s his name already ? Haechung ? Haechoi ? Lol so useless I can’t even remember his name.”

 

 

Winwinmyheartu :

“Whut ? Who is that lol ? Can’t see him”

 

 

‘I lived in America for 4 years’ :

“Are you joking lmao he’s the only fucking thing I can see, he’s so fat”

 

 

Open you rice :

"True, his female thighs are blocking the whole screen geez"

 

 

Ten’s sock in baby don't stop:

"Is that even a human ?"

 

 

Lowkey married to Yuta come to the wedding guys :

“Is that even a thing” is a more accurate question lol

 

 

Flying Songs :

"His voice kekekeke sounds like a dying duck"

 

 

There are more members in NCT than the number of my friends :

"So untalented. And he’s not even pretty, what a fatass."

 

 

I’m not crying, you are :

"Tbh I thought he was some kind of technician who came to clean the scene lmao"

 

 

GoldenNCT :

"I’d be so ashamed to be his friend."

 

 

To the world, yeogi NCT :

"Idk how they are all coping with him, he just keeps dragging NCT down. Such an egocentric crybaby."

 

 

 

Mark’s wife :

“ He should seriously consider killing himself.”

 

 

 

He should seriously consider killing himself. He should seriously consider killing himself. He should seriously consider killing himself _. Mark’s wife ? Who does she think she is_? He should seriously consider killing himself.

He should seriously consider killing himself.

He should seriously consider killing himself.

He should seriously consider killing himself.

_He should seriously consider killing him-_

 

"Ten, I think that's enough for tonight. "

 

Nobody dared to contradict Taeyong. The lovable, trustworthy, supportive, excellent leader, the best of confidants, the beautiful, the beloved, the _slender_ Taeyong hyung. The evening was officially ruined because of him. His stomach jumped when Mark put a hand on his, still resting on his collarbone. He quickly realized that all eyes were on him, they probably had to call him.

 

No importance.

 

All that Donghyuck's brain could process at that moment were the comments that seemed impossible to erase, and the contact of his skin with his hyung’s. The perfect skin of his hyung. Who did he think he was? Is he able to think for at least more than a second? All these people were right, he was egocentric. He had not even thought for more than ten seconds before touching Mark's skin.

The contact that was so comfortable just minutes ago turned into a terrible burn that inflamed his mind as well as his body. The retch that crossed him was the most difficult to repress, as he thought of the consequences of his actions. Disgusting. Repugnant. He had no right to touch Mark. He was going to hurt him, contaminate him. Mark does not understand? Why is he not afraid? Why does he stay there looking at him with his big eyes full of anxiety, squeezing his hand harder and harder, bringing him closer to him with his other arm? Stop it Mark. Stop it. I disgust myself. I despise myself. I don’t even want to know what you are really thinking about me.

 

The room seemed to breathe again when Haechan's eyes came to life, the youngest of the 127 unit finally seeming to come out of his trance after the many anxious calls left unanswered. He stared at Mark for a few moments before pulling away from him as if he had been burned.

But he was suddenly so cold.

He coughed slightly before saying in a falsely reassuring voice:

 

"Well, that's embarrassing. "

 

The little laugh that escaped his throat seemed so false to his own ears that he repressed a grimace.

 

"Keep the party going without me, it's not really important huh, but I'm just a little tired. I'm going to bed. Good night hyungs. "

 

He came out of the living room a huge smile on his face and with his chin up. A futile facade that was destroyed as soon as he passed the bathroom’s door.

His reflection that he had fled like the plague these last days judged him harshly, tears streaming down his cheeks. His fingers acted on their own will and tangled in his brown curls, pulling them hard. A grimace of pure pain clenched his features, his head aching, the words jostling each other more violently, intermingling.

 

He should seriously consider killing himself. He should seriously consider killing himself. He should seriously consider killing himself. _He should seriously consider killing himself. He should seriously consider killing himself. He should seriously consider killing himself. He should seriously consider killing himself. He should seriously consider killing himself. He should seriously consider killing himself._

 

His arms fell flat on his flanks, drained of all energy as he faced his white and inexpressive gaze that rejected the _fucking_ mirror.

 

" _He should seriously consider killing himself_."

 

He was already doing it.


	2. Final part

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, here is the end of this story, and I want to thank a thousand times Anna Luciel who beta read this and helped me A LOT to correct all my mistakes, she really did an incredible job and thanking her a thousand times is far from enough so I need you to thank her too :D !
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy this :)), feel free to comment (or not) and to leave kudos if you liked it :)
> 
> Thanks to all of you

 

"Do you think he's fine? "

 

"No Lucas. No, he's not doing well. No sane person would be fine after that. We should never have done that, it was stupid, we should have listened to him.” Mark said furiously, getting up from the couch to pound around the room, frowning with worry, anger and guilt.

 

"No one is to blame here Mark do you hear me? Nor the others nor you. Is that understood?”

 

 

He just nodded to his leader. The latter got up to position himself beside him in front of the television. He rubbed his hands, trying not to be overcome by anxiety.

 

He is the leader. He must handle it.

 

"You are all aware that these kinds of comments exist, of course. Tonight’s experience teaches you nothing. But, we are not used to reading them as they are without any filters. Donghyuck is still young and you all know as well as I do that he can be very sensitive, so I'm going to ask you not to talk to him about what happened, I'll take care of it, don’t worry about it. If you ever come across such remarks, come see me and we can discuss about it, you know that receiving such comments is quite normal, it's sad to say so but it's true, it's a part of the idol life. But you do not have to overcome that alone, if it hurts you too much, I'm here. For anything. You know you can tell me everything, but do not keep your feelings to yourselves, together we will always find a better solution ok?"

 

"Hum. "

 

"We know yes. "

 

"Thank you Taeyong ah. "

 

"Thank you Taeyong hyung. "

 

 

Taeyong gave them a reassuring smile before heading down the hallway (not without hearing Mark's tiny "Bullshit"). A strong feeling of anguish gripped his throat as he planted himself in front of the door without daring to move. What a beautiful hypocrite he was. "It'll be okay" "do not worry" Shit. He was terrified. What is he going to say to him? He didn’t have a clue. Donghyuck was the cutest of his dongsaengs, but so, so fragile. He wanted to avoid giving him the coup de grace at all costs.

 

It's Haechan. He will figure out what to say. He has always done it. He is a good leader.

 

Isn’t he?

 

He knocked quickly on the door, so fast he realized it only a second later.

 

"Donghyuck?"

 

No answer. Not as if he anticipated any response following the first knock.

 

"Donghyuck-ah?"

 

Still nothing, not a sound. He then knocked with a little more strength.

 

"Hyuckie open the door now. We need to talk."

 

A sound of broken glass echoed through the corridor, making him turn his head sharply. Everyone was in the living room, that meant... He rushed to the bathroom but was overtaken by a Mark Lee who crossed the hall in a whirlwind and rushed to the door, drumming against it—fists clenched and with a maddened look. Any trace of mental stability had definitely left his face.

 

"Donghyuckie? Hyuckie-ah? Open the door please, yeah? For your hyung. Hyuckie, please."

 

His more and more desperate entreaties broke Taeyong's heart, he couldn’t move. Donghyuck did not answer. Why was he not answering? And if, and if ...

 

"Hyung do something for god’s sake!” Mark shouted, on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

 

 

 

I would do something if I knew what to do Mark.

 

Everyone was crowding in the hall, alerted by the noise. The dreamies were there.

The young ones are here. Donghyuck's close friends are here.

 Taeyong pull you together. _Hyung do something for god’s sake!_ Understanding finally kicked in when Jaehyun put a hesitant hand on his shoulder.

 

"Hyung? "

 

He's the hyung. He's the leader.

 

"Boys, back away. Johnny come here, maybe I'll need you. Mark, no buts, it's not the time. "

 

Clear sentences. Instructions. Even if he doesn’t master the situation, he must look like he will.

 

"Donghyuck-ah, here's what we're going to do: I am going to give you exactly five seconds to open that door and tell me what's going on, otherwise we'll break it down." Johnny gave him an intrigued look that would have been comical in other circumstances) “and we’ll enter the bathroom whether you agree with it or not. Understood?"

 

The terrifying silence answered him. He took a deep breath and blew out all the air he had in his frail lungs. In the most stable and authoritative voice he could deliver, he began to count.

 

" One, two, three… "

 

All members exchange worried looks. The corridor suddenly became a swarm of panic, incomprehension weighed down the atmosphere. Is Johnny really going to break the bathroom door? Why doesn’t Haechan come out? Taeyong glanced briefly at his friend, looking for confirmation - which he found in his eyes, then he closed his.

 

"Four ... Fi-"

 

"Hyung ..."

 

He opened them sharply and focused his attention on the broken voice coming from inside the room. The voice of his usually cheerful dongsaeng seemed so weak, so broken, so hurt ... Why ...? Why ? _Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Wh-_

 

"Hyung ... help me. "

 

His heart had been crushed.

 

"Johnny smash the door."

 

"What? Hyung, don’t you think we should call the manager instead? Or find—“

 

"JOHNNY SEO YOU SMASH THIS DAMN DOOR NOW. "

 

First try. Second try. Faster, _faster._ Third try. _Hyung help me. Hyung help me._

Without thinking further, he joined his efforts with Johnny's, his body crushing lamentably against the door, his shoulder making him suffer the martyr, but he continued. Once, twice, three times

 

"Hyung please..."

 

The door crashes loudly against the immaculate wall of the bathroom, revealing a vision of horror in front of the entire group. In front of them, Haechan was sitting in a pool of his own blood, bits of glass scattered around him. Panting, his eyes moved furiously across the room, seemingly unable to focus on one point for more than a second. His erratic breathing was cut off by his meagre attempts to acquire oxygen, tears rolling down like torrents on his cheeks. _He is a good leader, isn’t he?_

He was unable to move for a few seconds, his world swirling around him and hurricane Mark Lee passed him at a blazing speed to throw himself on the ground near to his friend whom he wrapped in his arms, placing frenzied kisses on the top of his skull, caressing his hair in a sort of psychosis crisis. Sobs and jerky breaths were heard behind him.

 

Leader Taeyong. _Leader._

 

"Ten, get the dreamies out of here right now. Doyoung, find me this damn first aid kit. Taeil hyung call 119. Jaehyun, Yuta, Kun and Johnny with me, everyone else you get out. "

 

"Taeyong hyung ..."

 

The trembling voice split his heart in half. Chenle? Jaemin? Jisungie? _Doesn’t matter_.

 

"Now."

 

One thing at a time. Physical injuries first. It was not good, not good at all. The glass had slashed his knees, thighs and calves, with some tips planted in places. The most frightening remained his arms and his hands. The veins seemed to be intact from any self-harm-injury which reassured the leader all at once, who could have easily burst into tears on the field if there wasn’t so much to handle. However, his relief was short-lived when he saw several open wounds with abundant blood flowing and other pieces of glass stuck in his hands and forearms. The fragile hands of his dongsaeng.

 

"Jaehyun, Yuta, keep your hands compressed on his open wounds. Squeeze hard. "

 

"I did not want to, I did not want to, I did not want to"

 

"Kun, get Mark out of here please. "

 

The latter protested violently, tears streaming down his cheeks paler than usual.

 

"No way Taeyong. Everything but that.”

 

He tightened his grip on the youngest who snuggled against him, trying to blend into the other, suddenly panicking that he could be withdrawn from him.

 

"No no no no no please hyung. I did not want to, I swear, it was not wanted, I promise, do not take Mark from me, _please_. "

 

"Ok. Alright. Mark can stay. But I need you to calm down first. Both of you. Donghyuck, you have to breathe. "

 

Taeyong exchanged a worried glance with Kun when Haechan abruptly threw Jaehyun and Yuta away, kicking them away, thrusting more debris into his legs.

"No no no no no no do not take me hyung, I need hyung, I need hyung, I need Mark, I need— I need—"

 

 

As the leader began to lose control of the situation, Mark cupped his dongsaeng’s cheeks and stared into his eyes. The two who understood each other so well seemed to have their own conversation.

 

"Look at me, Hyuckie. I need you to breathe okay? I'm not going anywhere. I’m staying here. So breathe with me okay? Can you do that for your hyung?"

 

The nod he received dissipated much of the tension in the room. As Donghyuck focused on the frequency of his breaths, Mark pressed his hands to his wounds, now closed temporarily.

 

"Okay Hyuckie, that's it, you're good, you're doing great, you're perfect. "

 

His comforting words shifted to English without him realizing it, which immediately relieved Haechan, who gradually emerged from his second state. He had always loved the nuances of Mark's voice when he speaks in English, but even more when he uttered such wonderful words that drove away those who seemed so indelible. A shower of kisses fell on his skull, his forehead, his temples, his cheeks, his nose, until he was relaxed enough to resume normal breathing and gratefully lay his head against Mark's shoulder his whole body following the movement, too weak to hold of himself.

 

"What happened Donghyuck-ah?” Taeyong asked softly.

 

"I didn’t want to hurt myself, I know what it looks like, but I assure you hyung. I just looked in the mirror and became so angry, I needed to hit something. Only I’m stupid, so here  we are now. Then I ... panicked? I suppose? I'm sorry hyung, I should have been more careful. "

 

Liar.

 

"Alright. Alright.” Taeyong released the pressure and pushed back the tears that threatened to emerge while leaning against the bathtub next to his dongsaeng, putting a reassuring but firm hand on his shoulder.

 

"It will be fine. Everything is going to be okay, meds are on their way, we'll take care of you."

 

"I'm tired hyung. "

 

"I know Hyuckie-ah, I know.” Mark punctuated his sentence, rearranging Donghyuck's head on his shoulder while gently stroking his hair.

 

More fear than harm after all. The scene was scary but the wounds were not so bad and the youngest had not tried to kill himself. Taeyong could handle a tantrum and a broken mirror anyway.

 

 

_Could he?_

 

 

 

.

 

"Before we enter this room, I want to be sure that we are all perfectly on the same wavelength.” Taeyong looked at his members one by one, facing their worried expressions. "Donghyuck-ah ..." His throat knotted without him being able to stop himself. Would they believe him? He did not believe himself the lie he was about to make them swallow. "Donghyuck-ah did not try to hurt himself, in any way. " Liar. "He is quite mentally stable, as stable as he always has been. " _Liar._ "He just did not stand to see these comments and accumulating that feeling with fatigue and stress and you get a great temper tantrum—one he could not control.” _Liar, liar, liar._ "Whatever happens now, his days are not  in danger, but he is still very tired, he still lost a lot of blood, so I'm going to ask you not to be too loud inside. Is that ok for everyone?"

 

Murmurs of approval reached his ears, so he decided to open the door, letting the members go in one after the other. Only one remained behind.

 

"Is there a problem Mark?” He asked softly, closing the door behind his back, playful exclamations escaping from the adjoining room. He had asked them to be quiet, damn it.

 

The look that his dongsaeng gave him nailed him on the spot. Still sitting on his chair, with his arms in his lap, his hands tied and his head down, Mark looked up at him in what seemed like a superhuman effort. Hatred. Anger. Resentment. Guilt. He resented him. Taeyong felt laid bare and pierced by the murderous look that was intended for him. _That's how it’s going to be, huh?_

"No hyung. There is no problem. No problem at all. Or is it not rather what you want to try to make us believe? No, there is no problem. Not when Donghyuck is on a hospital bed because he planted himself pieces of glass in his body after breaking a mirror out of despair. There is no _fucking_ problem—“

 

"Mark-yah—"

 

"NO FUCKING problem when he refrains from eating while he is hungry, just to lose weight when he doesn’t even need to. No _fucking_ problem when no one notices how bad he is doing—not even him—or worse, when everyone sees that it's not right, but that nobody does anything about it! Not even me hyung! I should have done something, I should have..."

 

The tears that drenched his eyes dangerously did not sink and Mark clenched his fist against his mouth, in a meagre hope to hide the noises of distress that ached to reveal themselves to the whole world.

 

"And you just want us to believe that everything is fine? That Donghyuck has slipped? We both know it's fake shit hyung, I know you, too, have noticed how he behaves at dinner time these last few days—just when he comes to eat—the way he looks at food, how sensitive he is as soon as the subject is approached. He tries to hide it, but we both see further. That is not true hyung? So tell me why, why didn’t we do anything? Tell me why we let things go so far? "

 

 

Did Mark really wait for an answer? Taeyong would be unable to give him one anyway. They had screwed up. They had all screwed up. But the two of them especially, he could not deny it. Mark was... he did not really know how to define the relationship he had with Haechan, but for Donghyuck, Mark was just "that person," so special, so important, that would surely share his whole life with; and Taeyong, him ... he was the leader.

 

And he had failed. _Miserably._

 

"It's not your fault Mark, do not blame yourself. It was up to me to pay more attention to him. It should not have happened, I'm sorry. We'll take care of him now, I promise you."

 

Who was he trying to deceive with this? But Mark seemed to go for it, or maybe he just wanted to get it over so he could get into the room. Whatever was the reason, Taeyong let him in and followed his steps before closing the door behind him, isolating them from the world. Eighteen people in a hospital room, it was madness. But the giggling vision of Donghyuck, unable to hold back his laughter at the show of grimaces that Johnny offered him was well worth being stuck with his friends in a tiny room. As soon as he heard the door close, Donghyuck turned his head.

 

His eyes fell on Mark, and they stared at each other for a few seconds, right in the eyes. The world seemed to have faded around them, so Taeyong realized. _Ah, so that's it..._ His dongsaengs were much more for each other than what they wanted to admit, so much more than friends or a mundane teenage love. _So, so much more._

 

"Hyung..."

 

Smiles bloomed on the faces of the members as the mood of the room became lighter and when Mark grinned at Donghyuck as he took him in his arms. Without thinking he huddled against his hyung, smelling his scent, closing his eyes. He visualized himself alone, with Mark, in their room, surrounded by his intoxicating smell, and immediately calmed down.

 

Mark Lee. The most stupid idiot.

For once, he decided to stop thinking, and to act purely by instinct asking himself only one question: "what did I want to do since I entered this room? "

 

He knew it very well.

 

So he did it.

 

He put both of his hands on Donghyuck's cheeks, caressing him with his thumbs. Looked at those bright eyes that faced him, and after a smile, kissed the corners of his mouth. It was not really a kiss, nothing but a child peck, but it was enough to swell his heart. Because Mark Lee was terribly angry. Because Mark Lee was never the one initiating skinship, because Mark Lee constantly pushed Haechan away, because Mark Lee wanted Donghyuck to know how much he likes him, despite his vehement attitude.

He laughed softly at the surprised expression of his dongsaeng and then sat on the chair at his bedside, taking his hand and stroking his hair with the other. He felt immediately that the other was beginning to relax under his touch, smiling even when his exhausted eyelids closed against his will.

 

"You can rest now."

 

 

You deserved it.

 

.

 

 

"Finally, what do we do now?"

 

Hire a nutritionist? Forcing him to eat properly? Send him to a specialized center? None of his solutions appealed to Mark, but he knew they would have to make a decision, and the spectre was far from wide.

 

"With our activities it is clearly impossible that he benefits from a continuous follow-up, even from us, there will be inevitably times when we will be separated. It's sad to say but with all that has happened we have neglected our activities lately, we no longer have the right to make mistakes or other problems will fall on our backs. What I propose to you is that we introduce a system of rotation so that we make sure that at least one person of trust is with him at all times.”

 

"Do you know that involves getting others to know everything Taeyong hyung? "

 

"To know what? "

 

The two men looked at each other, agreeing that they could no longer keep secret the health of their friend. Taeyong turned his chair to face the newcomers, motioning them to sit on the black leather couch beneath their trophy shelf.

 

"What a theater entrance Johnny hyung, you repeated that for how long exactly?” said Mark bitterly.

 

"Since my birth. I would enjoy my hour of glory with pleasure but ... "

 

"We would like to know what we need to know.” Jaehyun continued, a serious look in his face.

 

"And also why we didn’t knew it earlier, and why you feel the need to hold small secret meetings in the middle of our studio.” Doyoung finished, crossing his arms over his chest, his legs on the seat and leaning against the wall, scowling.

 

So they told them. Everything.

 

Everything they knew at least, and Mark remained impassive, as always, after all, it is Donghyuck who is to be pitied, not him. But Doyoung, the _adorable_ Doyoung who always saw everything, put a hand on his shoulder, and the reassuring gesture destroyed the solid world he had built for himself.

 

"I'm sorry Mark. You have suffered a lot, right? But your hyungs are here for you now, we will take over. Hyung is here Mark."

 

And for the first time in weeks, Mark broke and cried in Doyoung's arms, throwing himself on the couch in the middle of his elders. Mark cried all his distress, all his helplessness, all his guilt, all his suffering not shared.

 

Because Mark was still a child.

 

Because no matter how mature he is, how organized, how talented, how responsible, how irreproachable.

 

Mark is a _child_.

 

Then he cried, for entire minutes, ugly sobs escaping from his throat forcefully, cutting the silence of the room only punctuated by the soft "Hyung is here.” Murmured and repeated like a mantra by Doyoung, who pressed him tightly against him. And Doyoung also needed a hug, they all needed a hug. As futile and puerile as it was. Then they all joined in a huge group hug on the couch.

 

For once, there was no laugh, no joke, no joke, just a meaningful silence. A silence that sealed their trust in each other, a silence that said " _I am here._ "

 

 

Mark did not cry for months after that.

 

 

.

 

 

Nothing was easy in the first days of Donghyuck's return to the dormitory. Between his mood swings, his refusal to come to eat with them, his refusal to eat at all, his tantrums, his outbursts of rage and his heart-breaking tears when he was confused in apologies.

 

However, what broke Mark's heart the most was how he looked at him.

 

Those eyes that faced him expressed nothing but fear, seeming to cry out to the world that he was not well enough, that he did not think himself good enough to be loved.

 

So Mark told him every day how wonderful he is, and how much he loves him, not just to reassure him, but because that, and only that, was the pure and strict truth, and that any other thing didn’t matter.

 

"You are loved Lee Donghyuck. So loved. Your parents love you, your fans love you, your hyungs love you, your dongsaengs love you and I love you. More than anything. So please sweetheart, can you love you too?"

 

Mark's fingers curling in his hair, his soft lips sealed to his in a loving kiss, their two torsos one against the other, their legs intertwined on his bed, his little hands making their way to caress his friend's face tenderly, laughing softly when he slipped a hand on his waist, holding him firmly over him, the feel of his hyung's fingers making his skin shudder, Donghyuck thought that yes, he could do that.

 

He could love himself.

 

Not for his fans, not for his hyungs, not for NCT, not even for Mark. But for him, and him only. Only by loving yourself you can truly be able to love others after all.

 

 

"I love you hyung."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this story !


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